"Would you step below a minute, Mr Edwin?"

Edwin shuffled. But Big James's majestic politeness gave to his
expressed wish the force of a command. Edwin preceded Big James down
the rough wooden stair to the ground floor, which was still pillared
with supporting beams. Big James, with deliberate, careful movements,
drew the trap-door horizontal as he descended.

"Might I ask, sir, if Master's in a bad way?" he inquired, with solemn
and delicate calm. But he would have inquired about the weather in the
same fashion.

"I'm afraid he is," said Edwin, glancing nervously about at the litter,
and the cobwebs, and the naked wood, and the naked earth. The vibration
of a treadle-machine above them put the place in a throb.

Astounding! Everybody knew or guessed everything! How?

Big James wagged his head and his grandiose beard, now more grey than
black, and he fingered his apron.

"I believe in herbs myself," said Big James. "But this here softening
of the brain--well--"

That was it! Softening of the brain! What the doctor had not told him
he had learned from Big James. How it happened that Big James was in a
position to tell him he could not comprehend. But he was ready now to
believe that the whole town had acquired by magic the information which
fate or original stupidity had kept from him alone... Softening of the
brain!

"Perhaps I'm making too bold, sir," Big James went on. "Perhaps it's
not so bad as that. But I did hear--"

Edwin nodded confirmingly.

"You needn't talk about it," he murmured, indicating the first floor by
an upward movement of the head.

"That I shall not, sir," Big James smoothly replied, and proceeded in
the same bland tone: "And what's more, never will I raise my voice in
song again! James Yarlett has sung his last song."

There was silence. Edwin, accustomed though he was to the mildness of
Big James's deportment, did not on the instant grasp that the man was
seriously announcing a solemn resolve made under deep emotion. But as
he understood, tears came into Edwin's eyes, and he thrilled at the
swift and dramatic revelation of the compositor's feeling for his
employer. Its impressiveness was overwhelming and it was humbling. Why
this excess of devotion?

"I don't say but what he had his faults like other folk," said Big
James. "And far be it from me to say that you, Mr Edwin, will not be a
better master than your esteemed father. But for over twenty years I'v